


Love Like Leather

by ackermom



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Glove Kink, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3193556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackermom/pseuds/ackermom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gloves fit perfectly, like a rusted bicycle you remember how to ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Like Leather

**Author's Note:**

> de-anoned from [here](http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/13546.html?thread=9756394)
> 
> also posted on [tumblr](http://filiuscanis.tumblr.com/post/107231373045/eruri-week-day-4-little-things-1080-words-nsfw)

**i.**  The gloves fit perfectly, like a rusted bicycle you remember how to ride. Black leather creases in every corner, spins and swallows over long fingers whole, and they give a crunchy stretch when tugged taut. Levi runs his eyes over them. They fit perfectly.   

Erwin’s hands hover on his shoulders, the gloves airing above his bare skin; it makes Levi shake when his hands drop and run over the back of Levi’s arms, draw thick lines down to his elbows where they cup him lightly. When Erwin meets Levi’s eyes, he raises an eyebrow.   

"Don’t take them off," Levi murmurs, and Erwin bends to kiss him.  

 **ii.**  The first time they fucked, they fucked hard and hot on Erwin’s desk. Levi lost himself in just one glass of wine, didn’t say no to the body that pressed him against the mahogany, didn’t say no to the whiskey-stained lips that hovered over his, and finally said  _god yes_  to the man that fucked him until he forgot.

He didn’t, though: forget. 

He remembered- not much about that night, not much about the bottled rage he swallowed in spite, or the way he lusted into his captain’s hands. Unrivaled heat fogged that memory; he washed it out in a shamefully long shower the next morning. 

What he didn’t forget was Erwin’s hands: pinning him to the desk, turning his chin upright, and gripping the back of his neck when they kissed. Leather wrinkled when Erwin moved, and the gloves pressed cool, then warm, against Levi’s sweating skin. He touched the leather for only a moment before jerking back, the rich darkness royal under his fingers. 

What he remembered most, though, is the way Erwin carefully plucked them off- the gloves- and tossed them out of sight. 

“I don’t want to get them dirty,” he explained. 

In the shower, Levi scrubbed at his raw skin until it bled: bruised and barren.

 **iii.**  They fucked again, later; not too late to wholly heal from the heat of that night- rather, late enough that the bruises dotting Levi’s shoulders were fresh.

And that’s how he remembered it: like the pink hidden beneath his collarbones, like the scratches along his thighs. Like wounds from an old, shameful war.

They fucked in Levi’s office that time. Erwin didn’t wear the gloves.

 **iv.**  “Commander,” Levi said. He dabbed a finger on the bolo tie. “Is this part of the uniform?”

“Levi,” Erwin sighed.

Levi tugged on it; his eyes fell to the gloves. “Are those?”

“Levi,” Erwin sighed, “not tonight.”

 **v.**  Summer didn’t warm their wounds, but Levi’s lips buzzed hot and he dropped eagerly between Erwin’s knees. Fingers tugged loose a belt buckle, took Erwin’s length in their grasp; Levi shuffled forward and bumped his head on the desk. When Erwin’s hand rubbed at the mussed spot of hair, Levi peered up at him.

“Where are your gloves?” he said.

“It’s summer.”

“So?”

“I don’t wear leather gloves in the summer.”

Levi dropped his chin on Erwin’s knee: dragged a finger up the length of his cock. It was limp, but hot. “Go get them.”

“What?”

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

He raided Erwin’s room, bedside drawers left lolling open in his wake. When he returned, black leather gloves tingling in his hands, Erwin stared at him incredulously.

“What,” he said. Levi clambered over his lap, down into the crevice between desk and chair, and threw the gloves up.

“Put them on,” he said at Erwin’s raised eyebrows. “I won’t get you off until you do.”

The leather curled into his black hair, tugged at the tendrils of his scalp, and Levi popped his lips open. He trailed his tongue up the veins of Erwin’s cock, lips round and wet, and he pressed hot kisses to naked skin, humming. Leathered hands weighed on his head; their touch tingled at his scalp, and when Levi swallowed Erwin whole, the gloves tightened their grip, fingers digging through Levi’s hair in a desperate measure for support.

When Erwin came, Levi spat seed onto the black of his boots and stood.

“Don’t lose those gloves,” he said.

 **vi.**  Erwin lost the gloves, inevitably. They had scars, he reminded Levi, and I’m sure the titans are finding them fascinating. Levi dusted snow from his hair and ignored him.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” Erwin said breathlessly that night, his lips caught on the flesh of Levi’s neck. Their legs wove together, and sweat beaded at the joint of their hips. 

“They’re not mine,” Levi murmured, but Erwin jerked into him and he growled instead.

“Your birthday’s soon,” Erwin whispered. His lips brushed over Levi’s, chapped and hot in the old bedroom. “I’ll buy you a new pair.”

 **vii.**  Erwin bought him a new pair.

Levi’s skin stung red under the smooth black that drew through his hair, cuffed at his neck, and pressed its fingers inside him; but it sobered, later, and when his skin shone clean and unmarked in the morning light, he yearned again for it all: for the leather and the heat and the way Erwin’s eyes lit up when he ran his fingertips down Levi’s thighs.

Erwin fucked him again, and again. And he kept the gloves in a bedside drawer, and they snapped easily onto his wrists, and they fit easily on Levi’s hips.

They fucked after the wall fell, their breaths short and their teeth clenched; and they fucked after the failure to reclaim the wall, their hands bloodied and their hearts dirtied; and they fucked after the 57th expedition, silent and raw.

And there came a night, a night of beating hearts and anticipation; in the aftermath of Stohess and all that came with it, Erwin took Levi to his bedroom. The gloves twined their fingers into his, and Levi let himself be caressed.

It was the first time he thought  _I love you_ , and although he didn’t say it, his lips caught with desperate moans, he knew that Erwin heard.

 **viii.**  The glove fits perfectly, like a rusted bicycle you remember how to ride. It stretches taut over his palm, swallowing his fingers whole, and when Erwin curls his fist around the reigns of his horse, the black leather crunches against his skin.

He turns from the mirror, from the reflection of a hollow sleeve, and finds himself peering into Levi’s solemn eyes. Levi reaches out and takes Erwin’s hand in his, running his fingers over the cool leather.

“Don’t take it off,” Levi murmurs, and Erwin bends to kiss him. 


End file.
